


I Don't Want Anybody Else

by dixie12



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Chicago Blackhawks, Exhibitionism, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23747491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixie12/pseuds/dixie12
Summary: Set in the 2011-2012 season.Pat's been looking forward to taking Jonny out to a special dinner for a while now. The middle of a losing streak wasn't what he had originally planned, but Jonny needs some cheering up, so he decides to go for it.
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews
Comments: 11
Kudos: 68





	I Don't Want Anybody Else

**Author's Note:**

> Using the quarantine to write my first fic! Unbetaed. Would love feedback!

“No… no… no…” Patrick was muttering to himself as he swiped through pictures of restaurant interiors on Yelp. None of these had what he was looking for. He was through most of the “fine dining” establishments around Phoenix, and he really wasn’t looking forward to expanding his search radius. There had to be somewhere in the city limits that would work. So far he had two restaurants in his “maybe” column: an Italian place, where all of the food would probably wreak havoc on Jonny’s delicate constitution, and an Indian restaurant that looked promising but didn’t really have the vibe he was looking for. He sighed, scrolling to the next listing.

“You planning a big evening, Peeks?” asked Sharpy, leaning up from behind Patrick. Fuck, he’d thought everyone was asleep. They’d just lost 5-3 against the Sharks and were on the plane to Phoenix to take on the Coyotes for the second half of a back-to-back the next night. Sharpy had had a two-point night, but Patrick and Jonny hadn’t hit the board at all, and Jonny had taken a stupid late penalty for hooking that Patrick could tell he was still brooding over, even in his sleep. The losing streak, now seven games and counting, jesus, had been wearing on all of them, but as usual, Jonny was taking it the hardest. It had taken him over an hour of their ninety minute flight just to fall into a fitful sleep, and Patrick could tell the bags under his eyes wouldn’t be any better when he woke up. 

“Yeah, man, your mom deserves some wining and dining before I take her home,” Patrick answered, without looking up from his phone. It was a weak comeback, and he knew it, but it was all he had the energy for. Sharpy just laughed, ruffling his hair.

“Seriously, man, you have a girl in Phoenix we don’t know about or something?”

“Some of us just like a little culture, Sharpshooter. I’m sure it’s a foreign concept to you.” Sharpy kept staring, and Patrick winced. Of course it wasn’t that easy. “No, I just thought a good meal might take Tazer’s mind off everything, but you know how finicky he is. Just planning a dinner with the guy’s a huge process.”

“Finicky? That’s a big word for such a little dude.”

“Persnickety? Particular? I could go all day, bro. UVM ain’t got nothing on me!” Sharpy rolled his eyes, but leaned back into his own seat, mumbling something about not letting him near any more word-a-day calendars. Patrick was surprised that his half-hearted distraction had worked, but Sharpy was as tired as any of them. Disney on Ice had kicked them out of the UC for an extended roadtrip, and no one had slept in their own bed for ten days now. It was enough to push them all to their limits, and they still had four games to go. Patrick blinked against the grittiness in his eyes, but the pictures started blurring anyway. He put the phone down, vowing to continue his search the next day. 

***

Thankfully, Q had cancelled morning skate, despite his ever-increasing threats to have them bag skating until they couldn’t stand. Patrick woke up with the Phoenix sunshine streaming through the curtains they’d forgotten to pull shut when he and Jonny had stumbled into the room, so late it was actually early. Jonny himself was awake, munching a bland-looking cereal at the desk, still looking half-asleep. Patrick was sure he’d been up for a while, though, obsessing over his penalty and the general failboating of the team recently. 

“Morning, man,” he called over to Jonny, who raised his eyebrows at him and went back to his cereal. It was going to be that kind of morning, then. Sometimes, Jonny could be teased out of his bad moods, with Patrick’s lips trailing down his perfect abs to his cock, tongue playing around the foreskin, letting Jonny harden in his mouth before he started to thrust in, eventually losing himself in the feel of Patrick’s warm mouth around him and spending the next few hours languid and relaxed. After two years, though, Patrick knew when he was fighting a losing battle. 

Instead of letting Jonny bruise his ego with a rejection first thing in the morning, he opened Yelp back up, determined to find the right place. Q and management had decided the team would stay in Phoenix for the next two nights rather than take off immediately for Nashville, to give them a few days in the same place to try to rest and recharge, and Patrick was determined to put his plan into motion. One part of the plan depended on finally finding a restaurant that fit his requirements, and the other part, well, that was nestled in a satin pouch in the bottom of his duffel bag. A shiver ran through him at the thought, but Jonny was too morose to notice. 

After another thirty minutes of scrolling, interrupted by Jonny grumbling his way through the rest of his breakfast, brushing his teeth and showering, Patrick finally struck gold. Steak 44 was an intimate looking steakhouse about twenty-five miles from the Coyotes’ stadium and their downtown hotel. It had excellent reviews, a menu that even Jonny couldn’t complain about (much, anyway), and most importantly, a video tour of the high-class interior that showed a small booth, high-backed and tucked into the corner, covered in a floor-length, cream tablecloth. It was perfect. Patrick made a reservation for the following night using the name Patrick Meyer, his go-to alias that had a matching credit card, and then rolled over in bed. 

Jonny was back at the desk with his iPad out, dressed in just a pair of boxers, back ramrod straight as he rewound the same play over and over. Patrick could see the grinding of his jaw from across the room, and he knew Jonny would have a headache later, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Making a mental note to force some Tylenol down his throat before their afternoon nap, he straightened up in bed, swinging his legs toward the floor. He padded over to Jonny, dropping a hand down on his shoulder and nuzzling into his hair. Jonny startled, and Patrick snorted; he was so predictable in the morning.

“You need to chill a little, Taze,” he started, rubbing a slow circle into his back, but Jonny cut him off.

“What I need is to get my shit together and step up on the ice. I’ve played like garbage the last three games, and you know it,” Jonny snapped. “You can save the touchy-feely bullshit for the rookies,” he added, shrugging Patrick’s hand off his shoulder. “I’m sure Shawzy could use a shoulder rub and a pep talk.” Jonny could be a dick when he was stressed, and earlier in their relationship, Patrick had made excuses for him, writing off those moments as the weight of the captaincy, a pressure he’d never understand, but over the last year, they’d both been making an effort to be kinder to each other. They’d spent their first several years on the team before they got together chirping each other, sometimes jokingly, but often not, and it was too easy to slip back into the sniping of teammates instead of the communication of a relationship. Jonny hadn’t lashed out like that in months, though, and if Patrick didn’t already know what a bad place he was in, he sure would have now. Still, he wasn’t going to let Jonny take it out on him, especially because Jonny always regretted his temper pretty quickly, and he didn’t want him stewing on this later, knowing he should apologize but never quite getting there.

“Jonny, look at me.” Patrick used his name on purpose, tapping Jonny on the chin and sinking into a chair next to him. Heaving a sigh, Jonny put the tablet down and looked at him, jaw still set stubbornly. “You don’t have to talk about it, and you don’t even need the backrub, even though we both know you love my hands,” he wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis, “but you can’t just yell at me for no reason, man. I’m just trying to look out for you…” he trailed off, hoping Jonny wasn’t feeling too bull-headed today. Not that he couldn’t work him out of it, but Patrick was tired, too, and he had been looking forward to enjoying their morning off together rather than having a stalemate with a crabby captain. Jonny slumped, though, tension draining from his shoulders and back as he rubbed at his forehead.

“Peeks, Patrick, shit I’m sorry. That was a shitty thing to say. I mean, Shawzy would probably cream himself if you actually offered to rub his back, but…” Patrick took pity on him.

“It’s fine, man, I knew what I was getting into with you. Just, a little less snapping, a little more getting back in bed and cuddling with me?”

“I was actually gonna go swim some laps- I think I tweaked something in my back avoiding those sucker punches Thornton was throwing at me.” Jonny actually did look disappointed not to be able to take Patrick up on the cuddling, and Patrick didn’t try to guilt him out of his plan.

“Fine, fine, be a responsible hockey player. You’re lucky those didn’t land- Joe’s a beast. I’ll drag Sharpy out for some brunch. You need to check in with the trainers at all?”

“Nah, I think I just need to stretch out a little bit.”

“Sounds good, Jonny.” Patrick dropped a kiss on his forehead and made his way to the bathroom for his own shower.

***

The less said about the Coyotes game, the better. They were blanked, and Jonny took another late penalty, not that they were mounting a comeback at that point, anyway. Jonny gritted his teeth through media availability and then shut down, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes in the locker room and putting on his headphones as soon as he was showered. He climbed into his bed at the hotel, glancing pointedly at the other one, a clear signal that Patrick would be sleeping alone. He settled in, but Jonny’s harsh snores never started, and Patrick drifted off to sleep in the unsettling quiet.

Patrick lived for the days he didn’t have to set an alarm, but Jonny was all about consistency, always preaching at Patrick that he should be keeping the same schedule no matter what. Jonny wasn’t the boss of him, though, no matter how much he tried to wield the C off the ice. Screw good sleep hygiene, Patrick was going to take advantage of the day off. Unfortunately, his conditioning kicked in, and he found himself rolling over before 9:30. Groaning, he made a mental note to remind the rookies to enjoy some lazy mornings before their hockey schedules ruined them forever. He wished someone had warned him, but when he was a rookie, all he learned from Sharpy and Bur was to check his skates for shaving cream before he put them on.

Jonny was nowhere to be seen when Patrick looked around the room, and he didn’t see a note, either. Sighing, he levered himself out of bed, resigned to eating breakfast alone. He ordered room service and was out of the shower by the time it arrived. He went over his plan for that evening once more in his head while working through his eggs and toast, trying to anticipate any snags. As long as he could shake Jonny out of his funk before dinner, he thought it had an excellent chance of succeeding. And he’d sure as hell have fun trying.

***

Rather than spend the afternoon waiting around for Jonny, Patrick called the concierge to arrange a cab to and from their reservation, rode the exercise bike in the gym for an hour, spent a while messing around on Skype with his sisters, and finally, showered again and put on a button down shirt with jeans for dinner. He picked a light blue shirt that he always worried made him look too delicate, but never failed to make Jonny’s eyes go a little bit hooded when Patrick put it on. He had faith in his plan, but it wouldn’t hurt to stack the deck in his favor. 

Jonny finally came back from communing with the desert in the late afternoon. He looked happier than Patrick had seen him in the last few days, and his cheeks were pink, like he’d been sitting outside soaking up the sun. He gave Patrick an almost sheepish glance as he walked into the room, putting a small box down on the table. 

“Hey, man, you had a good afternoon?” 

“Yea. I slept in like a normal person, and then spent most of the day around the hotel. Where’d you disappear to?” 

“There’s this nursery a few blocks over that I wanted to check out. Thought it would be good a place to clear my head,” Jonny dropped his eyes a little as he spoke. “It has this incredible botanical garden. Some of the succulents were beautiful; I ordered like six for my garden back home.” His enthusiasm was infectious, and Patrick shook his head, smiling.

“Whatever floats your boat, buddy. Go take a shower; I’m taking you out to dinner tonight. Finest dining Phoenix has to offer.” Jonny looked at him more closely, eyes taking in the light blue shirt and the gel in his hair. 

“Special occasion?”

Patrick just smiled, not wanting to give away the game.

“Just go shower, man.” Jonny shrugged but ambled toward the bathroom. 

“I got you a cupcake,” he said, gesturing at the table, “but that was before I realized we had fancy dinner plans. Would you listen if I told you not to eat it until after we got back?”

“Not a chance.”

***

Patrick was licking the last of the frosting off his fingers when Jonny came back out of the bathroom, dripping wet and naked. 

“Speaking of things that look good enough to eat…”

“Seriously?” Jonny muttered, trying to look judgmental, but Patrick knew him well enough to see the beginnings of a smile.

“What, I’m just saying, it’s a good look on you,” Patrick leered as he said it. “We’ve barely had time to do anything in the last few days, can you blame me for enjoying the view?” Jonny flushed, pink tinge spreading from his already sun-kissed cheeks and down his chest. His cock began to thicken between his legs as Patrick continued staring, licking his lips as he watched Jonny firm up in front of him. “What do you say you let me make you feel good before we leave, baby?”

“I.. do we, uh, have time?” Jonny stuttered, reaching down absently and palming his cock with a big hand. 

“How fast do you think you can be?”

“Uhh, well, it has been a few days…” Jonny trailed off. 

“Go lie on the bed.”

Jonny did as he was told, looking a little bit stunned at the turn of events.

“On your back,” Patrick directed. Once Jonny was laying down, Patrick walked over and climbed onto the bed, straddling Jonny’s legs. “I think I like this, you totally naked for me while I’m all dressed.” Jonny shivered, and Patrick continued, “yea, you like it too, don’t you baby? Love showing off for me, knowing how it gets to me, how hard it makes me, seeing you all laid out like that for me.”

Jonny nodded, panting, “yea, Pat, fuck, love it.” 

“I know, baby.” Pat took Jonny’s cock in his mouth, already hard. He used one hand to keep a light pressure on Jonny’s hip, more of a reminder than anything, and worked the other one down over Jonny’s balls, rolling them gently in his hand. He alternated suction, going hard and then backing off, peppering light kisses around the head and licking up drops of precome until Jonny was gasping. 

Pat leaned up, reaching into the nightstand by the bed and taking out a small packet of lube. Jonny was so lost in the blowjob that he barely noticed, except to whine when Patrick stopped sucking him for a few seconds to rip the lube open. “One sec, babe,” Patrick soothed, and took Jonny back in his mouth, coating his fingers and working them back behind Jonny’s balls. He started to suck harder as he introduced his middle finger, sliding it in and out a few times before crooking it to hit Jonny’s prostate. Jonny keened, arching up off the bed and further into his mouth. Patrick let his tongue play over Jonny’s slit, just how he liked, and added his index finger, scissoring them just a bit, making sure Jonny was stretched. Jonny’s breath started coming faster, and Pat knew he was getting close. He stretched his fingers a few more times, and then took them out, wiping off the excess lube on the sheets and using both hands on Jonny’s hips now. Holding him firmly, Pat took him down as deeply as he could, nose almost touching Jon’s pelvis. He could feel Jonny shaking apart under him, and he pressed down harder, emphasizing his position in control above Jonny. With a heated groan, Jonny came in his mouth, relaxing down into the bed as Pat swallowed. Pat kept him in his mouth, lightly suckling for a few more seconds until the aftershocks were gone. Glancing up from between Jon’s legs, he could see Jon’s slack face, breathing deeply with his eyes closed. He looked like a completely different person than the ball of stress he’d fallen asleep across from the night before, and Pat congratulated himself on a job well done. 

He slid off the bed, going over to his duffel and taking out the satin bag. Coming back to the bed, he sat up near Jonny’s head, stroking the hair off his forehead. For once, he was thankful Jonny insisted they keep the hotel room cool and neither of them had worked up too much of a sweat getting Jonny off. That Jonny had come in about eight minutes flat, helped, too. He continued petting Jonny’s hair as he came back to himself, wistful for the summer, when Jonny let it grow out and it was long enough that he could tug on. Quick orgasms like this always knocked Jonny out a little, and earlier in their relationship, he was often too embarrassed to let Patrick baby him afterwards, but these days, he was good at accepting the simple affection, turning his head into Patrick’s hand and smiling. 

“You back with me, babe?” he asked. Jonny nodded, opening his eyes and sitting up straighter in bed. Pat checked that his eyes were clear and alert, then took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I know we’ve talked a few times about your exhibitionism thing,” he started, and then, seeing Jonny ready to protest, corrected himself quickly, “or whatever you want to call it. The thing where you get off on the idea of wearing a plug for me in public. Do you think you’d want to try that tonight?” Jonny’s eyes went wide as Patrick gestured to the bag next to him on the bed.

“Did you seriously bring that on the plane with you, Patrick?” he asked, aghast. Patrick nodded, tracing his finger over the tie at the top of the bag, enjoying the satiny feel of it. 

“I had it way down in the bottom of my duffel, no one was going to see it,” he replied. He smiled at Jonny quickly, but tried not to stare. It was important that Jonny come to this decision on his own. He didn’t think he’d say yes just to appease Patrick, and he’d lost count of how many times he’d leaned down and whispered filthy stories in Jonny’s ear while fucking him, telling him all about how hot it would be, knowing that Jonny had a plug in him while they were out doing the most boring errands. Or after they’d both gotten off, Pat’s come dripping slow and viscous of Jonny’s hole, telling Jonny how much he’d like to plug him up to keep it in there then take him out with just the plug stopping his come from leaking out all over Jonny’s ass in public. Jonny was always into it, and had been for a while, but Pat wanted to make sure he was totally ready to take the next step. The seconds passed slowly, as Patrick tried not to squirm, hoping he hadn’t misjudged the situation, but then Jonny spoke.

“I’m glad you got me off first, otherwise I think I’d spend the entire night hard,” he started, his voice like gravel, then narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, “exactly how long have you been planning this, Patrick?”

“I mean, I’ve been thinking about it for awhile,” he replied, “just been waiting for the right time.” Jonny nodded, then glanced down at the bag, licking his lips once before looking back at Patrick. Jonny stared at him for a few seconds before Patrick realized the conversation was over, just like that. Jonny didn’t want to keep questioning him, or argue, or make Patrick beg, which told Patrick just how into it he was. “You ready, then?” Jonny nodded again, cheeks flushing somehow impossibly pinker. This was going to be fun. 

***

Jonny moved more slowly than usual getting into the cab, gasping in a sharp breath when he twisted quickly to buckle his seat belt, but nothing too obvious. He had opted for jeans instead of khakis, which was less formal than his usual date outfits, but still looked fantastic. He had lost his golden summer tan, but he was still darker than Patrick, and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his white button-down, exposing his strong forearms. In Chicago, they’d both be tucked into multiple layers to fight off the February cold, but here in the desert, the temperature would barely dip into the 40s, so they hadn’t even brought jackets. Patrick was in favor of as much of Jonny being exposed as possible, at all times, and Jonny usually agreed. 

Thankfully, the Phoenix roads were smooth, and they didn’t hit any unexpected potholes or rumble strips. They could never do this in Chicago, for multiple reasons, but avoiding the roads and traffic of the city was a bonus of taking it out of town. Patrick kept up a light conversation during the drive, avoiding talk of hockey and rambling about current events and other sports. 

Jon put up a valiant fight to stay alert and present in the conversation, and only really slipped once. The cab was an older sedan, and it took their driver a solid 60 seconds to get up to speed and pass another car on a two-lane road near the edge of the city. Jonny stumbled through the end of a sentence about the Bulls’ starting lineup and couldn’t seem to start another one. Patrick glanced over, then, and noticed Jon’s eyes glazing over as the cab slowly picked up speed. His mouth had dropped open just a bit, and he was breathing heavily but holding tight through his core, one hand fisted at his side. Patrick was confused until he realized he could feel the old car vibrating underneath them as it gained speed. If he could feel the deep thrum of the vibrations, Jonny must have been getting way more intense sensations amplified through the plug. 

“Breathe, baby,” he whispered, putting his hand on Jonny’s knee. Jon looked at him, eyes a little bit lost, pupils wide, but before he could say anything, the driver stopped his Indy 500 impression and they slowed down significantly. As the ride smoothed out, Jon started to breathe more comfortably, flushed from his cheeks down to his chest. Patrick suspected he was flushed even further down, and wished they were driving themselves so he could see, or at least tease Jon about it. If he was this responsive to the rumbling of the car beneath them, Patrick couldn’t wait to see how he’d react during dinner. He took his hand off Jonny’s knee and started their conversation back up, working on distracting him until they reached the steakhouse.

Jonny held it together the rest of the way, and Patrick tipped the driver as they slid across the seat and out the door. The interior of the restaurant looked exactly like the video on their website, so there were no last-minute surprises, and they were met by the maitre d’ with a polite smile, but no flash of recognition in his eyes. 

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said, welcoming them into the restaurant. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Meyer, table for two,” Patrick returned.

“Of course, sirs, right this way.” The host led them through a circuit of booths and small tables until they reached the back corner booth that Patrick had requested, tucked away under intimate lighting. Like the rest of the booths around the perimeter, it was elevated about six inches above the floor. “Enjoy your meals,” he said, “your waiter will be with you shortly to discuss the specials and take your drinks orders.” Turning, he made his way back to the reservations stand, leaving them alone. The restaurant hummed with gentle conversation, but it wasn’t overwhelming, and there was no music or TV adding to the background noise. Patrick handed Jon a menu, taking his phone out of his pocket and laying it next to him on the booth, out of Jon’s eyeline. 

“How about we split a bottle of red?” Patrick suggested. “I’ll let you pick, since your pretentious ass will judge whatever I choose.” He wouldn’t mind Jon loosening up from a glass or two of a nice red, but he really didn’t want either of them actually getting drunk.

“Pretty sure they don’t serve two-buck chuck here, so I doubt you could even pronounce any of the wines.” Patrick rolled his eyes in response, but shoved the wine list towards Jonny. Jonny had never taken less than five minutes to choose a wine, googling reviews and suggested pairings before a waiter ever got to their table, then bombarding them with a dozen rapid-fire questions. It was his one exemption to the ‘no phones at the table’ rule he insisted on when it was just the two of them at dinner. He had tried to enforce it during team dinners, as well, but finally gave up when only the most wide-eyed of the rookies actually listened. 

He waited until Jon was absorbed in the list, flipping between pages of thick cardstock and comparing wines to reach down slowly and unlock his phone. He turned off the screen lock and turned the brightness all the way down, then scrolled to the last page of apps, where just one was alone on the screen, and tapped it open. Glancing up, he moved it onto his lap, made sure Jonny was still distracted, and then adjusted the dial on his screen, snuck a hand onto Jonny’s knee, and pressed the start button. 

The response was immediate, as the plug inside Jonny started to vibrate softly. He dropped the wine list and grabbed Pat’s hand on his knee, mouthing words, but none of them coming out. Patrick let the vibrations continue for another fifteen seconds or so, watching Jonny’s eyes go wider, looking for any signs of distress, then turned it off, looking at Jonny for his reaction. 

“What… what was that?” Jonny gasped, still looking shocked. He twisted around, scanning the room rapidly, but everyone was involved in their own meals and conversations, not paying attention to the small booth in the back.

“Was that ok?” Patrick asked. “I thought you’d like it, but I promise, if you want me to stop, I will, no pressure. You looked so hot, though, Jonny, you have no idea.” Patrick knew he was babbling, but given the sight in front of him, who could blame him? Jonny just blinked at him. “Did it feel good?”

“I mean, yes, of course. I just wasn’t expecting… that, at all,” Jonny finally answered. Pat could feel the pulse in his wrist, much higher than his usual resting heart rate, but slowing as they talked. Patrick let him think for another few seconds before asking again, quietly,

“Do you want me to stop?” Jonny bit his lip, but shook his head slowly. “If you ever want me to stop, just say the word, Jonny.”

“I know; I trust you, Pat,” Jonny replied, big brown eyes looking totally sincere. Pat squeezed his hand once.

“In that case, you should keep obsessing over the wines. The waiter will be disappointed if you don’t quiz him on the grape vintages and mixing percentages.” Jonny’s hand shook slightly as he reached for the wine list again, but he picked it up gamely and returned to his comparisons. Patrick heaved out a sigh of relief. As much as he’d planned, and as well as he knew Jonny, he hadn’t been completely sure that Jonny would be on board. There was a big difference between talking dirty about the idea of sex toys in public, but actually doing it was a huge step. Pat was blown away by the trust Jonny was placing in him, and what that meant. He was determined to be worthy of it.

Jonny’s brow was furrowed as he looked at the wine list again. For the first minute or two, he kept glancing up at Pat, waiting for the plug to start vibrating, but Pat just smiled innocently, looking down at his own menu. After a few minutes, Jon sighed and actually focused, picking up his phone and comparing listings. He was still flushed, but otherwise looked like himself. Patrick couldn’t have been prouder of him. He decided not to push him too far yet, and didn’t turn on the plug before the waiter came over to introduce himself and list off the specials. Jonny’s politeness meant he usually gave waiters his full attention, asking too many questions about exactly how fresh the seafood catch of the day was, and what kind of seasoning was used on the truffled potatoes, but tonight he was distracted. He asked for a few details about his wine options, but made his decision much faster than usual, handing the list back and staring at Patrick before the waiter had even left with their drink order.

Patrick took pity on him and turned the plug back on, after nudging the level up from one to two. The effect was instantaneous, and more intense, either because Jon was expecting it this time, or because the vibrations were more powerful on this setting. A low moan rumbled out of Jon’s open mouth, and he seemed totally unaware of it, already getting lost in the pleasure of the sensation of the plug inside him. Patrick had tried it out himself, unwilling to use it on Jon before he knew what it would feel like, so he knew just how perfect the angle was, how the tip of the plug was sitting snugly against Jon’s prostate, and how overwhelming it could become as he turned the level up. Jon moaned again, quietly, and Patrick saw his hips flex once, seeking out contact. He turned the plug off, giving Jon a chance to calm down. There was no reason to rush this.

Patrick started talking, just to ground Jonny with the sound of his voice. He rambled about the new Rachel McAdams movie his sisters had seen over the weekend, and how glad he was that Jonny wasn’t going to drag him to that for Valentine’s day. Jonny snorted, paying attention even if he wasn’t up to contributing to the conversation yet. Patrick continued,

“Seriously, man, even Channing Tatum isn’t enough to convince me to see that one. But did you see the trailer for his new one? I think he’s a stripper or dancer or something. If you want to see that, I suppose I could find the time to take you.”

“So selfless of you, Peeks,” Jonny answered, recovered enough to be sarcastic again. Pat smiled at him and let Jonny change the subject to hockey while they looked over the menu. They were in an intense discussion about their special teams when the waiter returned with their wine. He poured a sample for Jonny, who took his time swirling it around the glass before smelling it and then finally tasting it. He could be so snobby, seriously. Apparently it met his standards, though, because he signaled the waiter to pour their glasses before ordering for himself and Patrick. 

He ordered like he’d read Patrick’s mind, waygu filets for both of them with various sides, but without even bothering to check with Patrick. Usually, he would bitch about that, but tonight, he had a better option at his disposal. He waited until Jonny was ranting about their penalty kill again before he turned up the intensity of the plug and turned it back on. This time, when the vibrations hit Jonny and he trailed off, Patrick squeezed his hand.

“Not this time, babe, you gotta keep talking for me.”

“Pat…” Jonny’s eyes were drifting closed until Pat squeezed again. “What...” He blinked them open, but couldn’t seem to focus on Pat’s face. Instead, he was staring blankly past him, and given how dilated his pupils were, Pat thought he probably wasn’t focused on anything at all. Pat gave him another full minute to focus on the vibrations, watching Jonny’s face flush before responding. 

“Tell me more about the PK,” he instructed. Jonny looked stunned, but he took a deep breath.

“Duncs.. is doing a great job. He’s playing.. Hard… fuck, so hard, Pat,” Jonny’s voice was breathy, and his hips were moving again. “He’s always right where I need him to be, right… there,” and he was circling his hips now, rocking to tilt the plug exactly where he wanted it. Patrick could feel himself burning up; this was probably the hottest thing he’d ever seen, Jonny on the verge of falling apart right in front of him. He turned the plug down but not off, and leaned closer, whispering,

“You’re doing so well Jonny. Feels good, yea? Tell me, baby.”

“Yea, Pat, so good, god,” Jonny moaned, hips still bucking up. “So hard.”

“Gotta be quiet, Jonny,” Pat whispered again, but a look around the room showed no one was paying attention to them. “Wouldn’t it feel better if you had a little more space, babe? Your jeans have to be hurting by now, so tight up against that big, gorgeous cock of yours. You should open them up, get yourself comfortable.” Jonny didn’t even pause to think, nodding at Pat as he reached down and thumbed the button open. Jonny gasped as his hand brushed his cock while he lowered the zipper, spreading his legs as he got a little more room. Pat could see the fabric of his tight black briefs, fully tented, dampening where the head of Jonny’s cock was pressed into them. Jonny was tucked in the deepest curve of the elevated booth, and there was no way anyone could get an angle to see him, but just that tiny possibility, and watching Jonny listen to him so obediently, had Patrick just as hard himself. “That’s perfect, babe, doesn’t that feel better?” Jon nodded again, and Pat turned off the plug. They both needed an intermission. 

If Pat thought Jonny needed grounding after the first few times he had turned the plug on, it was nothing compared to now. He put his hand back on Jon’s knee and leaned in, pitching his voice just above a whisper. “Breathe, Jonny. Just breathe, you’re okay.” Jonny was taking shuddering breaths, too fast, and when he looked at Pat, his eyes were glassy. “Slow breaths, man, just relax for me,” he continued, as soothing as he could. Jonny’s breathing started to calm, and Pat handed him a glass of ice water. He just stared at it at first, like he had forgotten what it was for, until Pat tapped his hand. “Come on, babe, drink up.” Jonny shook his head like he was clearing it and raised the glass to his lips, draining it in one long pull. “There you go, good job.” Jonny smiled at him shakily, resting both forearms on the table, before dropping his head between his shoulders and taking one more huge breath. 

“That was really intense, Patrick,” and wow, Pat had rarely heard his voice sound so throaty.

“It was,” Patrick agreed. “Too intense?”

“I didn’t say that,” Jonny replied, a hint of a smirk playing across his lips now. He was never one to back down from a challenge, especially once he had already started.

“Remember what I said, Jonny- you want this to stop, it stops.”

“I know, Pat, but it was good. Way more than good, actually.” Relieved, Pat turned his steady grip on Jon’s knee lighter, tracing circles over the fabric. 

“Glad you think so, Jonny, because you’ve never looked better. So desperate for it, baby, and that’s after I already got you off once tonight. So greedy.” Patrick didn’t know where the words were coming from, but he could tell they were hitting Jonny hard, and he kept going. “You probably wouldn’t have minded if I’d gotten on my knees under the table, wouldn’t care if the whole restaurant knew what I was doing, as long as it felt good, huh.” Jonny’s breathing, which had finally started to settle, picked back up, and his eyes focused in on Pat’s mouth. Pat licked his lips once, letting his tongue run over them, before picking up his glass of wine. It was so easy to work Jonny up, but he never stopped loving it. He did want to give Jonny a few minutes to recuperate, though, so he changed the subject reluctantly. “What do you think of the wine? Up to your standards?”

Jonny shook his head slowly. “I can’t believe you expect me to talk about wine right now, Pat. Can you just… distract me, please?” Pat could feel his grin slide towards evil, and Jonny hurried to rephrase. “You know what I mean! Just, I can’t focus on anything important, so just talk, Pat. We both know you’re good at running your mouth.” It took him a few seconds, but when he realized what he’d said, he put his head in his hands and groaned. Pat hadn’t seen him this out of it since he was knocked out on heavy-duty painkillers during his knee injury rookie year, and he was delighted that he was the cause of it this time. He left his hand on Jonny’s knee, but didn’t ask about the wine again. 

“I can’t believe you still haven’t started Game of Thrones, dude. Season two starts in like, six weeks, and I need someone other than Duncs to talk to about it. He read all the books, even the one that just came out this summer, and he keeps threatening to spoil me. He’s all, ‘if you can read Twilight, you can read these,’ but the books are a thousand pages long, and honestly, I’d rather just wait for the show.” Jonny had raised his head and was making eye contact, which Patrick considered progress. His eyes weren’t quite focused yet, and one of his hands had drifted down to his lap. Interesting. Pat kept an eye on that, but kept talking, “I think Arya is my favorite. She may be small, but she’s dangerous. Pretty sure that’s what goalies think of me, too.” He hated to admit that he may be smaller than the average player, but Jon had earned it. He kept talking about fan theories he’d read online for the next few minutes, mixing in some completely ridiculous ones just for fun, while Jonny slowly resurfaced 

Out of the corner of his eye, Pat saw their waiter approaching. He waited until he was just about at their table before turning the plug back on to the lowest setting. Jonny shivered with it, but managed to keep his face calm. Thankfully, their server was only coming by to update them on their entrees- coming out any minute, and check if they needed anything. Patrick assured him that they were good, and the waiter nodded and walked away. The entire interaction lasted less than thirty seconds, and he turned the plug off as soon as the waiter was gone. Jonny was staring at a point over Pat’s shoulder, and Pat noticed the muscles of his forearm flexing rhythmically. He leaned over, pretending he needed to refill his water glass, and followed the line of Jonny’s forearm down to his lap. When he realized what was happening, he choked on his breath. Jonny was palming his cock, grinding the heel of his palm into it as he stroked himself gently. He looked up at Jon’s face, which was almost serene now that the plug was off, and realized Jon was moving totally unconsciously. 

He dragged his eyes back towards Jonny’s face, not wanting to disrupt the moment yet. Instead, he just watched for another minute, as Jon’s eyes became heavy lidded, gorgeous flush rising up in his cheeks. This entire night had played out differently than he had planned. He hadn’t gotten much further than thinking about surprising Jonny with the plug, but watching Jonny fight against the sensations all night, losing himself more and more while submitting to the vibrations, it suddenly felt more profound than just exploring a kink. Pat was invested now, in watching Jonny get off again, driven there by what Pat was giving him, so lost in it and the trust he had in Pat that he couldn’t help but touch himself. It wasn’t until he saw the waiter approaching with their food that he moved to stop Jon. Keeping his voice pitched low, not wanting to break the mood entirely, he murmured, “Food’s almost here, babe. Can you focus up for me?”

Jonny jerked his head over to look at him, eyes clearing rapidly, hands thumping flat on the table. He looked panicked, all of a sudden. “Patrick, what--”

“It’s ok, babe, you just got a little distracted,” Patrick whispered, as their server placed various dishes down in front of them, naming them off one by one. Patrick thanked him, then turned back to Jonny. “You just have to get through a little bit longer, and then I’ll take you home and take care of you, ok?” Jon made a sound almost like a whimper, but nodded, picking up his silverware. It took all of Pat’s willpower not to call their server back and demand everything be wrapped up to go and just leave, but if Jonny was willing to keep trying for him, Pat wasn’t going to let him down by being selfish and ending things early.

Dinner was not like anything Patrick had ever experienced. He tried his best to keep Jonny talking, but both of them were distracted. He almost regretted picking such an upscale restaurant, since he wasn’t paying attention to a single bite that went into his mouth, and he was sure it would be delicious under different circumstances. It was worth it, though, to have gotten the right atmosphere for the evening. He turned the plug on every few minutes, just to keep Jonny from getting complacent, and every time, Jonny reacted like he’d never felt anything so perfect. Even if he weren’t the one controlling the plug, Patrick would have been able to tell whenever it was on. Jon was giving it his best, trying to concentrate on dinner, but he got a faraway look in his eyes whenever the plug was on, fork stalling in mid-bite on the way to his mouth as he forgot what he was doing, stopping everything to take in the pleasure. 

Eventually, they made their way through most of the food in front of them. Jon was shifting restlessly in his seat, letting out tiny gasps when the plug hit him just right, even though Patrick hadn’t turned it on in at least five minutes. When their waiter came by, offering to box up the leftovers, Pat shook his head.

“Can I get you gentlemen any coffee, or perhaps you’d like to look at our dessert menu?” the waiter asked. Pat made a show of checking his watch before answering.

“You know, our cab back to the hotel won’t be here for another twenty minutes or so,” he replied, winking at Jon while he spoke, “I’d have a Bailey’s, if you have it, and you can bring the check at the same time.” Jonny was gaping at him, but Pat just smiled. “Patience, Jon,” he soothed, “we have to wait here or out in the lobby. We might as well stay comfortable.” Jon opened his mouth like he was going to protest, but instead gave a shuddering sigh as the fight went out of him.

“Whatever you say, Pat,” he replied, voice husky, but shoulders relaxed. Pat was still smiling at his reaction when the waiter came by with his drink, dropping off the check.

“Here let me just pay this now, so you don’t have to make another trip,” Pat told him, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out enough cash to cover the bill and a generous tip, thanking the waiter for a lovely evening. He had another twenty minutes to drive Jonny over the edge, though he didn’t think it was going to take that long. He poured Jonny the last inch of wine and then took a few seconds just to look at him. He looked wrecked, eyes were wide, lips parted slightly and stained from the wine. His legs were still open, and Pat could see that his cock was still hard and straining against his briefs. God it must be getting painful; Pat was feeling ready to explode and that was without the prostate stimulation over the last few hours. 

He turned the plug back on to a medium setting and settled back in the booth. For the first few minutes, Jonny sipped the last of his wine. He tried to start talking a few times, but never got further than the beginning of a sentence before he lost his train of thought. After so much teasing, he was on the edge and struggling to focus on anything except the vibrations. Pat reached over and started stroking up his thigh slowly, never touching his cock, but getting closer with every pass. Jonny groaned, letting his legs fall even further open as Pat’s fingers traced circles over his leg. He shifted closer to Pat in the booth, bumping his shoulder as he moved, then looking at Pat with wide, pleading eyes. 

“Need something, babe?” he asked innocently, while turning the plug up a notch.

“Oh my god Pat, touch me, please,” Jonny begged, knuckles of his hand white where he was gripping his wine glass.

“I am touching you, Jonny,” he replied, fighting against a smile.

“You know what I mean!” Jonny gasped. “You’ve been teasing me all night, Pat, and I’ve been good, right? Please, just touch me, get me off.” Patrick almost broke, then, but he wanted to see how badly Jonny wanted it, how far he was willing to go in his arousal.

“Our cab will be here in fifteen minutes, babe, and then we’ll be back at the hotel. I’m not going to touch your cock until then.” He said it gently, but firmly, and Jonny moaned softly. He turned the plug up once more, and Jon shivered. Patrick started talking again, a mindless story about some prank Sharpy had played recently, as Jon’s gaze went blanker. He kept his voice low and calming, still tracing circles on Jon’s leg. “That’s it, feels good, doesn’t it, even though I’m not touching you where you want it. You can move your hips now, sweetheart. Just a few minutes til we’re back in the cab.” He dropped his voice even lower, drawing his words out honey slow. “When we get back to our room, I’m going to lay you out on the bed and see just how pretty and pink you look, stretched around that plug. I’m going to leave it on, watching it vibrate inside you, knowing it’s stretching you out for my dick, how desperate you are to take it.”

Jon was panting now, and his hand had drifted back down to his cock. Pat kept going, “Eventually, I’ll turn it off, slide it out of you nice and slow. You’ll feel every inch of it as I go, hole tightening down around it, not wanting to let it go as I work it out of you. You will, though, because you know I can’t fuck you until you give it up”

Jon moaned, slipping his hand inside his briefs, and Pat continued, “I still won’t fuck you though. Your hole will look too pretty, all nice and loose for me. I’m going to put a pillow under you, prop you up and get my mouth on you. I’ll start slow, just little licks all around your rim, dipping my tongue in to get at the taste of you. I wouldn’t go any deeper until you were moaning with it, though, trying to grind that perfect ass of yours up into my mouth.” Pat glanced around the restaurant, but the other tables had gotten louder and drunker as the night went on, and they were being ignored in their hidden corner. Pat could see that Jonny was actually jerking himself off now, not the mindless strokes from earlier, but firm and fast, groaning out loud. Pat watched his fingers play over the head of his cock, and he knew the foreskin would be fully retracted, head flushed dark and red. He had seen it so many times, taken it deep in his mouth, laved his tongue over it, and he had no problem imagining it now. 

“When I thought you’d begged enough, I’d finally give in and start fucking you with my tongue the way I know you want me to. I’d have to hold your hips down as I got in there deeper. You’d be trying to stay still, but we both know how much you love my tongue in you.” Pat snuck a glance at his watch. They still had time, and judging from the look on Jon’s face, it wasn’t going to take much more. 

“I’m not going to let you come riding my face, though, babe. Once I had you dripping wet from my mouth, I’d get you turned over, put you on your knees. You’d be so loose you wouldn’t need any prep, so I could slide right in, get all the way inside you on my first stroke.” Jon was mumbling now, mostly nonsense words, but Pat could make out the occasional “yes” and “so good.” The heat in Jon’s voice hit him hard, and he had to adjust himself in his pants so that he’d be able to walk out of the restaurant soon. “I’d keep fucking you just the way you like, deep and slow, one hand around your cock. You wouldn’t know where to go, whether you should fuck yourself back on my dick or into my hand.” 

Pat changed tactics now, words coming low and fast. “Do it, Jonny, fuck your fist for me, right now.” Jon did just as he was told, thrusting up into his own hand. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his hips were working hard. “Yea Jonny, so desperate for it you’re jerking off for me right here in this booth. Anyone could see you babe, but you don’t even care, do you? Just want to get yourself off, make yourself feel good. Such a slut, Jonny.” Pat moaned out the last few words, more turned on than he thought he would be by the site in front of him. Jon was biting his lip, eyes closed now, totally lost in it. “Come on, babe, come for me, all over yourself. Just like that, Jon. So close, aren’t you, come on. Gonna feel so good,” Pat urged. 

Jon gave a final moan, hips jerking hard as his body convulsed, briefs soaking through as he came in them. He slowly pulled his hand back, come clinging to his fingers, and he stared at Pat, wide-eyed. Pat turned the plug off for the last time, then reached over and stroked Jon’s hair off of his forehead. He let himself just pet Jonny’s hair for a few seconds, then ran his hand down Jon’s neck to cup it in his palm. He left it there while he tilted his head towards Jon, leaning their foreheads together and breathing deeply. 

“That was amazing, Jonny. You were amazing; I can’t even believe it,” he continued to praise Jon as he wiped his hand clean with a napkin. “So good for me, so unbelievably hot.” He tucked the napkin into his pocket to throw out back at the hotel. “I love you so much, Jon, you’re incredible.” Jon’s head was nodding heavily against his, blissed out and spent from the intense orgasm, but he gave Pat a small, genuine smile.

“I love you, too, Pat,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper. “Do we have a few minutes before the cab gets here? I don’t know if I can walk yet.” 

Usually, Pat would preen at that, but tonight, he just answered slowly, “take as long as you need babe. I’ve got you.”


End file.
